


I've Got You

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [42]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x11, Cuddling & Snuggling, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, When they go home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:59:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off Anon Prompt: Gallavich prompt!! 4x11 oneshot of where Ian and mickey go home and just cuddle</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was going to do something else, UNTIL I saw this gif and based this whole one-shot off it. So yah. Hope you like it Anon! 
> 
> http://im-sirs-princess.tumblr.com/post/116963012540/theme-of-the-day-cuddling

Ian swallowed down his glass of water, stabilising himself with a hand firmly at the edge of the kitchen counter. It had taken them a while to get back, passing the flask back and forth, moaning about their injuries and the fact their noses were blocked fully with blood. It was still hard to process that Mickey had announced his sexuality,  _ came out  _ in front of his prick of a father, fought him against the bars floors. Really, he was still in shock. 

He walks over to the bathroom, slowly peering through the door. Mickey had gone through there a couple of minutes before, still not saying a full sentence. Ian was worried,  _ more  _ than worried. Once he steps in, he sees the curtain of the tub closed, a shadow forming against it through the darkness of the room. 

“Mick?” He whispers, pulling off his jacket and discarding it in the corner. 

There's a slight mumble, like a glass shard had sliced through the tunnel of Mickey's throat. He winces, walking further to the tub, pulling the curtain down the rail a little bit. “Mickey.” He gasps, in the sight of his boyfriend, fully-clothed – shoes and all – laid back in the tub, a bottle of Vodka resting at his chest, blood dried against his face. 

It was clear that Mickey didn't want to talk about it – Ian didn't feel like it either- so he pushes the curtain around, stepping into the tub. He struggles to find his position, but he ends up lying to the side of Mickey, cramped into the small space of the bath. Unexpectedly, Mickey turns, facing Ian with an almost sympathetic look against his face, until his expression turns soft, hurt, a million expressions that Ian had only accounted once.

“Shit.” He utters, quickly wrapping an arm around Mickey's shoulders, pulling him against his chest. The blood against his face scratches against the brunettes damp hair, stinging a little, but he didn't move. His other arm goes around Mickey's waist, squeezing against the skin lightly, telling him he was there. His ribs hurt like a royal bitch, but he really _can't_ take Mickey's face. 

“It's okay.” He soothes, pulling Mickey closer to his chest, the tub cold against his back. Mickey pulls his leg over Ian's, locking them together, resting his head underneath Ian's chin and kissing at the bruised skin. 

“I've got you.” Ian speaks again, his voice soft and delicate – like it wasn't even there. 

Mickey shakes, his body trying to push back a sob helplessly, he curls into the embrace, using Ian's body as a shield against the open world. Their legs are tangled, bodies pressed together against the cold base of the tub. Ian kisses at the top of Mickey's hair, wincing when the older boys fingers trail over his fractured ribs. 

Eyes glazing, he wishes Mickey would say something, but he repeated even softer, making sure Mickey knew he would stick around, that he was worth it, “I've got you.” 


End file.
